Dead on the Vine

by Elle Brooke White

  “What’s so important? They can ruin our entire crop because they multiply fast as lightning. If you don’t control the population right away, you’ll be overrun.”

  “We use as much natural deterrents as we can.” Charlotte followed the sound of the woman’s voice and saw that it came from Alice, who had pulled up in a golf cart.

  “Then why was there an open bin here?”

  “Good question, Miss Charlotte. Someone put it here and if you hadn’t been wandering around, I might not have discovered it for at least two days. By then the damage would have been out of control.” Samuel started to put the lid back on the bin.

  “Wait!” She grabbed his hand and he stared at her.

  “You might have hit your head harder than I thought.” Alice got out of the cart and went to her.

  “It’s not that, it’s Mrs. Robinson. She must have dropped off Horse’s head when he stuck it in.” Charlotte reached her hand in and let the ladybug climb onto her hand.

  Samuel looked at Alice for some explanation, but she shook her head.

  “Let’s get you inside so we can check your injuries,” Alice said, helping her up.

  Samuel helped Charlotte into the back seat of the cart, and Horse hopped into the front next to Alice. All four rode off toward the lights from Alice and Joe’s farmhouse.

  * * *

  If Charlotte thought that she couldn’t look any more foolish in front of people that she depended on to help her with the farm, she was about to prove herself wrong when she was asked to explain Mrs. Robinson. The only silver lining was that Joe had overhead Charlotte tell the story to Diane earlier in the day, so at least she proved that she hadn’t lost her marbles in the fall.

  “That was so unnecessary for you to bring us a pie tonight, Miss Charlotte—kind, but a risk these days being out on the farm at night.” Alice had made her a cup of chamomile tea for warmth and comfort.

  “Samuel told me that the tampering with the farm has been escalating,” Charlotte explained. “Please be straight with me, Joe. You promised not to sugar-coat anything.” Charlotte welcomed the tea from Alice and, cupping it, warmed her hands.

  “I’m afraid so,” he replied, and looked at Samuel.

  “Do you think that this is tied to the murder in some way?” Charlotte shivered at the thought.

  “Could be. I told you that we’ve been taking turns patrolling at night,” Samuel explained. “But whoever is doing this is onto our schedules and knows just when we won’t be covering a certain area.”

  “How could that be unless they were informed by someone who is very aware of your exact activities each day? It could only mean someone who works on the farm. Anyone come to mind?” Charlotte studied all three of their faces.

  “We three are the mainstays,” Joe replied. “Everyone else is part-time or seasonal.”

  “What about people who are not directly involved with the farming but perform other services like equipment maintenance, housecleaning, water and power, animal feed delivery, and so on?”

  “I’m coordinating a list of those names with Joe and Samuel,” Alice told her. “At Chief Goodacre’s request.”

  “Thank you, Alice. I’m sure it will help. And to each of you, I am sorry to have caused such a disruption tonight. I am clearly way out of my depth.” Charlotte sighed.

  “Well, not entirely. You saved us a lot of headaches by discovering those aphids.” Samuel smiled at her for the first time.

  “And your Mrs. Robinson reminded me that ladybugs are excellent natural combatants against them. Someone told me at the garden center that one ladybug can eat up to five thousand aphids in its lifetime! I’ll pick up a bucket of live ones tomorrow and release them around the area where you found the aphids!”

  “If I’m not imposing, I’d love to join you, Alice. The more I immerse myself, the faster I’ll hopefully learn.”

  “I’d be delighted. Joe, will you run Miss Charlotte, Horse, and Mrs. Robinson up to the house?”

  Alice has been nothing but kind tonight. Am I missing something?

  “Of course. Oh, and I found out what caused the blackout: a summer lightning strike.”

  So Wade wasn’t responsible. For that, at least. If Samuel is on patrol tonight, then Joe was out last night … when the murder took place.

  Samuel stood. “I don’t think they’ll try anything else tonight, but I’m going to take one more turn around the fields. And you, Miss Charlotte, don’t try to rush it. You’ll get the hang of things. Remember, Roma tomatoes weren’t built in a day.”

  Samuel nodded at her and left.

  Did Farmer Brown—er, Samuel just crack a joke?

  Chapter Six

  “He really said that about Roma tomatoes? I might be in love,” Diane announced from her place at the stove, where she was flipping another batch of blueberry pancakes.

  “First, no words, and now, humorous ones—the Finn Family Farm is truly a magical place. What is the best way that we can help you today before we have to head back to L.A., Char-char?” Beau popped a blueberry into his mouth.

  Having learned his lesson, this morning Beau was sporting rolled-cuff dungarees, a starched white T-shirt and a newsboy cap. Charlotte had to admire his resilience and creativity.

  “I hate leaving you in the lurch like this.” Diane frowned. “It’s one thing if you’re going through old stuff and deciding what to sell and something else entirely now that there’s been a murder on the property. Maybe I should call and tell the chef that I’m taking the week off. I certainly have the time coming to me.”

  “Absolutely not, Diane, when you take time off, it needs to be for a real vacation, not babysitting me, a little pig, and fields of strawberries. Besides, Samuel and Joe are taking turns roaming the property at night like hungry watch dogs.”

  “Still, that’s not the same as having an old friend by your side, someone you can talk to.”

  “Agreed, Diane, and I promise to holler when I really need you. I’m going to the garden center with Alice this afternoon. You and Beau can follow us into town. But perhaps for the next few hours we could go room to room through the farmhouse? You could help me take notes on the unquestionably necessary repairs that will need to be made.”

  “Perfect. What’s your guess on whether you’ll hear from slimy Lurvy again?” Diane shook her head in disgust before tucking into a maple-smothered stack of pancakes.

  “I have two guesses: slim and none.” Beau beat her to it.

  “Agreed. Listen, I hadn’t planned on signing a contract with a realtor immediately anyway. He was the one who approached me in the bank. I hadn’t even seen the property yet. But there he was, and it seemed like it couldn’t hurt.”

  “And how exactly did he know who you were and that you were interested in selling?” Diane had a naturally suspicious mind.

  “He must have overhead me talking when I was signing the deed papers and such for the farm, Diane.”

  “You did this out in the open?”

  “No, of course not. It was in the bank manager’s office—I see what you’re getting at!”

  “Curious, isn’t it?” Diane gave her a knowing nod.

  Charlotte thought back to when she overheard Alice tell Joe that she’d run into the Avery brothers in town the day that she arrived. They’d bragged about the farm being theirs.

  “What would be the reason for someone to pretend to be a realtor to get a tour of the farm? He could have simply said that he was interested in buying the farm, and I’d have given him a tour.” Charlotte couldn’t believe that they were talking about this.

  “Maybe so that he could give you a lowball value, hoping that you’d sell quickly and leave town.” Diane’s mind sometimes could conjure up bad things.

  “Do you think that was the reason why someone was murdered in my fields?” Charlotte’s voice had ascended an octave in panic.

  “It’s way too early to make that assumption. Remember, Chief Goodacre told us all to keep an open mind.
I’m just suggesting that we weigh some possibilities,” Diane said soothingly, trying to calm Charlotte down.

  “I’ve been played the fool, haven’t I?”

  “No, love, but it does sound like the cards were stacked against you even before you arrived. I’ve got to return a couple of calls, and then let’s start the rooms audit, shall we?” Beau tipped his cap to the girls and left the room.

  “He’s right. There are things at play here that we are going to need to wrap our minds around. I’m hoping that Chief Goodacre can enlighten us.”

  “About what, Diane?”

  “I’m not sure, but you can ask her yourself, Charlotte—she just drove up.”

  * * *

  “Good morning, Chief. I hope you’re hungry. Diane has made blueberry pancakes,” Charlotte greeted her as she stepped out of her Ford Explorer.

  “Sounds delicious and I may just take you up on it, but first we need to take care of some business. You may rescind the offer after you hear what I have to say. Is there a room we could meet in? I’ll need the other usual suspects. Could you call Joe, Alice, and Farmer Brown?”

  “Samuel—I call him Samuel now.”

  “What a difference a day makes. I’ll wait in the living room.”

  Charlotte rushed back into the kitchen. She’d been coldly jarred back into the harsh reality that she was a murder suspect, and on paper a very good one.

  “Something serious is about to go down,” Charlotte half-whispered to Diane. “She’s summoning all of us, and by her expression and tone, it isn’t to invite us to a barbecue and barn dance.”

  “Oh dear, it could be another kind of grilling. I’ll get Beau.”

  Charlotte called the others, and ten minutes later they were all settled in the sunken and wood-beamed living room. Chief Goodacre had acquiesced to a cup of coffee that had seemed to take the edge off her mood a bit.

  “Thank you all for coming at such short notice. I have some news, more questions, and an announcement,” the chief began.

  Horse wandered into the room, wagging his tail at seeing all his friends. He took up his post beside Charlotte, who was perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair. She was too nervous to sit and kept fidgeting with a piece of twine she’d found.

  “As you heard there was no identification found on the victim’s person yesterday. We are proceeding with other means of ID-ing the body including fingerprints and dental records. But in the meantime, we had started circulating a photo of his face in hopes that someone in town knew him.”

  Alice reached for Joe’s hand; they were sitting close together on one of the sofas.

  Were they in on this together?

  “We told you yesterday that we didn’t know him. That hasn’t changed,” Samuel said looking from face to face in the room in case someone had had an epiphany.

  “And I believe you all, for now.” Chief Goodacre’s tone had grown ominous. “Here’s the news part: in the process of getting the photo out, with careful cropping to avoid the pitchfork marks, my officer, Maria Dodd said that she thought she’d seen him before.”

  “Oh wow, so he was a local boy?” Charlotte watched Diane now scan the room with a suspicious eye.

  “I had Maria take her time studying the photo and then asked her to view the body.”

  “You sure are a ‘measure twice, cut once’ kind of boss, Chief Goodacre—bravo,” Beau said with admiration and amity.

  She showed no indication of returning his friendship at the moment.

  “You’re scaring me, Chief. Please just give us the bad news.” Charlotte had started to shake.

  “It isn’t necessarily bad, but Maria remembered him from a day trip she’d taken with the kids to the Humble Petting Zoo. Along with a friend and her two kids, they were given a behind-the-scenes tour as a show of gratitude for Maria helping the owners when an animal transport vehicle broke down on the road. When we talked to the husband and wife that own the petting zoo, they confirmed that they employed an animal keeper named Marcus Cordero. He’d been working for them for about six months when he disappeared a couple of days ago. Naturally, they were shocked when they learned of his fate.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Joe remarked. “Violence like this just doesn’t happen around here. Did they say if he had any enemies, Chief?”

  “Not that they could think of. He kept to himself. Did his job well and loved their animals.”

  “How about family? A girlfriend?” Diane asked.

  “Again, none that they knew of.”

  “Sorry to ask, Chief, but do you think that the owners were telling you the truth?” Alice said this in a shy whisper.

  “Here’s the thing, Alice: like Edgar Allen Poe said, ‘I believe only half of what I see and nothing that I hear until I have all the facts.”

  “But do you have any thoughts as to who did this?” Joe asked.

  “At the moment, almost everyone and no one. To some degree each of you had the means and opportunity.”

  “Along with the rest of the farms on these hills. Including the Humble Petting Zoo.” Samuel stared out into the fields.

  “You are correct, Samuel, so until we find a motive I can’t rule anyone out.”

  Knowing the poor man’s name is even more gruesome. He was somebody’s son. I wish that I’d never come here.

  “The plot thickens.” Beau looked toward the ceiling as if he was trying to remember something. “Isn’t this the part in an Agatha Christie novel when Hercule Poirot tells the suspects in the parlor that nobody should leave town?”

  “It is, and that’s what I am telling you. If you and Diane have jobs to get back to, then I suggest that you call your employers. I’ll need you here for at least a couple of days, to give time for some more information to surface and for us to chase down leads.”

  Charlotte piped up. “Are you saying that we can’t leave the farm, Chief?”

  “You can, but just don’t stray farther than Little Acorn until I give the okay.”

  Everyone was silent for the moment, letting the news sink in.

  “Remember that I’m doing this to catch the murderer so we can all get on with our lives. I don’t need to remind you that this wasn’t just a simple shooting. This was a particularly grisly, angry murder. Keep your doors locked when you’re home, and for heaven’s sake don’t go wandering out at night.”

  Charlotte avoided Samuel’s gaze.

  Chief Goodacre nodded to the group and left. All eyes went to Charlotte, including Horse’s baby blues.

  Charlotte gulped audibly.

  * * *

  “This is all my fault … and now you’re missing work … and Samuel and Joe can’t go and track down Serge, the distributor, to see why he hasn’t shown up … and they can’t collect the money that the farm is owed.”

  “For Pete’s sake, Charlotte, this is not your fault. And the good news is that we get to spend some more time together. Which had been my plan anyway. If you could go through the rooms in the house and put a sticky note on the pieces of furniture that you want to sell, then perhaps we can borrow a truck and take it all to town tomorrow.” Diane wrapped her arm around Charlotte and walked her into the foyer.

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. From what I hear the farm has a little cash flow problem at the moment, so every little bit helps. I’m meeting Beau and Alice on the back porch, and we are going to brainstorm ways to add steady income to the farm. Along the lines of what we did for Miss Fern’s classes, but to give visitors more of an ‘experience,’ as Beau calls it.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Diane.”

  “Luckily, you don’t have to find out.”

  Charlotte walked back to her uncle’s suite, followed by trusty Horse. She grabbed a pad of sticky notes off the desk and was about to start her audit when she spotted her laptop. She walked around the desk and sat down in front of it.

  “Did you know this Marcus Cordero, Horse? Did he have something to do with
the farm?”

  Horse stared at Charlotte for a moment, she thought allowing her words to register. He then hopped up onto her lap and stared at the computer screen.

  “You think we should do some research, do you? Mrs. Robinson, do you agree?” Charlotte asked, seeing the ladybug atop Horse’s head. “I need to take control of my own destiny. If I do nothing, then I’m a sitting duck, and I could possibly end up spending the rest of my life in prison.”

  Charlotte saw Horse’s eyes widen at the word “duck,” but the rest of that sentence flew right over his head. She opened a browser on her computer.

  “Okay, we’ll start here, but if we don’t find what we want, we’ll have to continue our sleuthing in my uncle’s library.”

  Horse extended his neck closer to the computer and smiled.

  * * *

  An hour later, after having learned precious little about this Marcus Cordero, Charlotte, Horse, and Mrs. Robinson could be found in Uncle Tobias’s library, sitting on the floor, surrounded by photo albums and journals that her uncle had kept. While the temperature outside was climbing into summer digits, the room with its Spanish pavers and decorative tiles, stone walls, and thick mahogany bookshelves remained cool. Charlotte made use of a leg blanket that she’d found draped over the back of a red leather club chair.

  “For a man with very little family, my uncle sure enjoyed collecting photos of his time on this blessed farm. Look at this, Horse—it was taken during one of his famous parties that he would have to celebrate a good season. There he is, looking fine in his straw Stetson. He always seemed to have a bunch of little kids following him around, and—is that a very young Samuel?”

  At hearing the name, Horse wagged his tail and squealed.

  “Could be,” came a voice from behind her.

  “Oh, you scared me. How long have you been standing there, Samuel?”

  “Less than a minute.” He chuckled. “Let me take a look at that picture.”

  He crouched down next to her and examined the few pages of the album covering the party.